


eyes

by blue_blue_electricblue



Series: cw: graphic descriptions of elias [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Eyes, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Scopophobia, Sexual Fantasy, Tattoos, but now he's also evil, continuing on the theme of elias is everyone's hot boss, cw: graphic descriptions of elias, elias is scary, eye horror? kind of?, i reserve the right to have at least 6 brians, if jonny can have 57 michaels, mentions of Daddy KInk, no one ask me about brian okay, sappy lonelyeyes, tattoos that are not tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23528893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_blue_electricblue/pseuds/blue_blue_electricblue
Summary: Brian thinks he can control his hot boss. (He's wrong.)Peter thinks it's a good idea to kiss some of the new tattoos Elias has gotten. (He's also wrong.)
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Original Male Character, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Series: cw: graphic descriptions of elias [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693177
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	eyes

**Author's Note:**

> why are we here? just to suffer? every day i write at 2000 words about elias bouchard

Elias was easily the most handsome boss Brian had ever had.

Everything about him, from the way he moved, the way he spoke, the shape of his body and the styling of his hair, even his age seemed to work well for him. Some people look best with greying hair, with crow’s feet and laugh lines, with an unimpressed glare, and Elias most certainly was one of them.

But he was so… effete. So composed. So put-together. And so despite the inherent Daddy-ness of the man, all Brian wanted to do was fuck him into next Tuesday.

This fact took up a significant amount of his mental power at work.

Just… how was he supposed to want to do anything different with someone so fuckable was hanging around? And anyway, it wasn’t like his boss could read minds or anything, and he’d been more… tactile lately, and looking at Brian and touching Brian and _smiling_ at Brian, so honestly, how could he be expected to focus on _finances_ when there was a man like _that_ in the building.

He was so lithe, his waist was so lovely, his lips were _perfect_ for breathless gasps and moans and shoving cocks into, the _noises_ he would make, how he would moan his name, the musicality of his voice when he would say–

“Brian.”

Brian’s head snapped up from where he was very decidedly not working out how much they would need from donors this quarter and instead fixed his eyes on who else but the very man he was fixating on.

“Oh, hello Elias,” Brian said, incredibly coolly for someone who was daydreaming of fucking this man into next week not ten seconds ago. He liked to think he’d gotten very good at that. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Elias gave him an appreciative smile and put a hand on his shoulder. “Actually,” he said in a tone that Brian would have… almost described as inviting? But that couldn’t be possible– “There _is._ ”

“What… what do you need?” Brian cursed himself for the stumble.

“Nothing you wouldn’t be glad to help with,” Elias said, and fuck but _is_ he coming on to Brian? “I just require your assistance in my office in a few minutes. That’s all.”

Elias’s gaze was nothing short of piercing, but Brian’s attention was split between his _eyes_ and the _pink of his tongue_ as it just peaked out and slid across his lower lip.

“Er,” Brian said, feeling very suddenly empty-headed, “right, yes. Of course. Of course! Be glad to help, boss!”

“Wonderful,” Elias purred. “I’ll see you soon.”

Brian had never gotten through his work as quickly as he did when the prospect of fucking his hot boss was suddenly on the table, somehow.

He made it up to Elias’s office in an amount of time that could almost be described as “embarrassing” or “over-eager,” but goddamnit, Elias was hot as hell, and he didn’t really care how eager he came off as, he just wanted his dick in him. 

He looked at the door for a moment, and just before he was about to knock, he heard Elias call from inside, “You can come in, Brian.”

Brian came in.

Elias was sitting at his desk, working at his computer. He didn’t look up at Brian, and Brian stood somewhat awkwardly in front of him.

The silence lingered for a moment, and Brian very suddenly felt incredibly nervous.

“Do you know why you’re here, Brian,” Elias said, still not looking up from his work.

“I, er,” Brian said. “I sure hope I do.”

Elias _now_ lifted his eyes to him for a moment. “So what, exactly, are you going to do about it?”

Brian nearly tripped over his feet in his haste to get over to Elias’s side of the desk.

And still, when he got there, he hesitated.

Elias sighed heavily and stood up.

“What’s wrong, Brian?” he asked, stepping closer, and Brian suddenly realized that Elias was quite tall when he wore heels, wasn’t he? “I thought you quite wanted to dominate me. You don’t seem to be able to at the moment, hm? I don’t think you could dominate _anyone_ right now. Why is that?”

Brian somehow felt a pressure on the back of his neck.

Elias Looked down at him and Brian had no idea why that was a capital L in his brain but Elias most certainly _Looked_ at him and opened his mouth and–

“Let’s stop playing, shall we?”

Elias’s fingers ran up his own body and undid his tie, skillfully, slowly, then slid it off. He slipped out of his suit jacket, of his waistcoat, putting them all neatly over the back of his chair, and then began to unbutton his shirt and–

Brian felt like he was breaking as he looked at the expanse of skin beneath Elias’s shirt. Though _skin,_ perhaps, was not the right word.

Elias’s whole body _Watches_ him and _Knows_ him and peels his skin from his flesh, flaying him alive to be _exposed._ Elias’s whole body shreds him into _atoms,_ understands him to a base, impossible layer. Elias’s whole body cracks open his skull, his ribs, his mortal flesh, and leaves him paralyzed in the cold, unforgiving light of his _eyes_ his _eyes_ god his _eyes_.

“Dominate me,” something said. “I hope you’re not getting cold feet now. Isn’t this what you _wanted?_ ”

He is _known_ he is _known_ he cannot hide he cannot cower he cannot run he is _known._

“Did you really think you could conquer the divine?” something asked. “You have my attention now. You have the force of a demi-god focusing on you and you alone. I want you to remember that you thought you could control this.”

His insides have been ripped out forcefully, hands have reached down into his throat and ripped his stomach out and his intestines are now spilling across the floor, his secrets and disgusting thoughts are now _seen_ , practically spelled out in the air for anyone to see. He is a butterfly, pinned down and in exquisite agony, still alive but immobile for the viewing pleasure of _eyes eyes eyes eyes–_

Something said, “Mortals need to remember their place,” and he–

Brian looked at the door to Elias’s office. He was, apparently, about to knock on the door and fulfill his fantasy of fucking his boss into next Tuesday.

He considers his options very carefully.

And turns around and walks back to the finance department.

From inside the office, Elias smiles to himself. 

“Smart choice.”

* * *

Peter carefully slipped into bed. It was quite early in the morning, and it wouldn’t do to wake Elias up at this hour. He would be in a mood, if he did, and Peter would rather deal with as little confrontation as possible, hence why he was slipping into bed at four in the morning instead of announcing his return from a trip.

Elias was sleeping on his stomach, in only his pajama pants, and as Peter pulled back the sheets, he couldn’t help but let his gaze follow the curve of Elias’s back. Elias really was beautiful, and his tattoos were a particular fascination of Peter’s. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, going through his mental catalogue to see that the panopticon blueprints still occupied his left shoulder blade, the cockatrice hissed up his spine, a few snakes from Medusa’s hair on the other side of his body just peaked around his waist, the protective sigils and scrawled cursive prayers wound around his ribs with any other pretentious quotes he thought were interesting, and the standard number of stylized eyes and accompanying flowers or stars or other symbols to make them aesthetically pleasing and coherent. 

But Peter was fairly familiar with his husband’s body, and was quite sure that several of the eye tattoos (of which there were many) had not been there before. He couldn’t be _certain,_ of course, because there really were an alarming number of eyes, but there seemed to be a few new ones; the basilisk seemed to have sprouted a few in place of a number of scales, the angels seemed to _look_ more fervently than before, and just, generally speaking, there seemed to be quite a few new eyes around his body.

Peter made a mental note to check his bank account in the morning to see just how much wealthier Lukas money recently made a local tattoo artist.

He stared at the expanse of Elias’s back, his eyes lingering on a new tattoo. It was an eye, clearly, but bigger and more prominent than the others. It seemed to look at Peter, properly Look, seemed to stare him down and Know him. It was a beautiful done tattoo. It really captured… _Elias_.

Despite himself, despite how disgusting and human and _loving_ the action was, Peter leaned down and hovered his face over where the eye sat in the center of Elias’s back, hesitated a moment, and then pressed a kiss to the ink.

Only for his lips to come into contact with something that felt _decidedly_ not like skin.

“Ow, _fuck!_ ”

Peter jerked backwards as Elias’s whole body flinched away from his lips and twisted into an upright position to properly glare at Peter.

“What the _fuck_ , Elias?” Peter asked, putting a hand to his lips and feeling some residue of… _something_ on them.

“I rather think I should be asking that question,” Elias said, full of his typical groggy rage at being woken up. “I’m trying to _sleep,_ like a _normal person,_ only to be woken up at _four in the morning_ by you and your _beard_ because you decided to _lick my eyeball–_ ”

“I was _not_ licking it,” Peter objected, but offered no explanation of what he was actually doing, because Elias would get horribly smug if he knew. “And, you know what, no, I _should_ be asking what the fuck, because _what the fuck_ is an _eyeball_ doing on your _back?_ How on _earth_ was I supposed to know that that was a _real eye_ and not a _tattoo?_ ”

Peter now looked closer at the other ‘new tattoos’ he had noticed while Elias was sleeping, and realized with a start that they were all trained on him. He reached out a hand to one of the basilisk scales-turned-eyes.

Elias smacked his hand away. “We’ve established that these are my _eyes,_ and not tattoos, yes? So I would kindly request you not _stab my eyes_ again, thank you.”

“ _Christ,_ Elias,” Peter said, feeling almost painfully _Seen_ under the weight of all of Elias’s gazes. “What the hell.”

“Yes, well,” Elias grumbled, settling back down into the bed with his back to Peter. “I had to put someone in their place.”

The new eyes on his back still watched him with undivided focus, and Peter couldn’t help but to laugh.

This was a mistake, because he very suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope, but he was used to this feeling when Elias was pissed, and so he would momentarily ignore the pressure, like a boot to his spine, like a scalpel to his stomach, like a hand squeezing his heart. Instead of giving in, he laughed again, though admittedly weaker than before, and crawled closer to kiss Elias’s hair.

The pressure eased somewhat.

“You’re so dramatic,” Peter said, still chuckling a little bit. “I can’t believe you sprouted hundreds of eyes to _prove a point_ about your superiority.”

“It was only dozens of eyes,” Elias muttered into his pillow, and Peter tried not to laugh again. “They’ll fade away again eventually, but until then, just… keep your beard hair away from my eyes.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Oh, shut up, Peter, and let me sleep, or I’ll do to you what I did to Brian. Maybe then I can get some _blessed_ peace and quiet around here.”

Peter snorted lightly, but didn’t say anything in response. It would be best to let Elias sleep. He was dreadful if he couldn’t get enough.

“And I suppose,” Elias said, haughtily but still quietly, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Peter placed a kiss to Elias’s skin, careful to avoid any new fucking _eyes_ , and hummed quietly in response. Elias was… a lot. He was a huge personality in such a small frame, and very demanding, and quite frankly much more powerful than most avatars that Peter knew. More powerful, more ambitious, more terrifying. He simply was… a lot to deal with.

“But worth it,” Elias said, his voice thick with sleep. “I’m worth it, and you know it.”

“You very much are.”

Elias fell back asleep beside Peter, and Peter wasn’t very far behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> one of my favorite headcanons is that elias is Not a morning person
> 
> just started using [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluezaffre) so come say hi to me!!


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